


The Mighty Deeds of Captain Logan Thackeray

by ElvenSister



Series: Bits And Pieces of The Commander's Path [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Just for Laughs, Late Night Writing, Not to be taken seriously under any circumstances, Tongue-in-cheek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSister/pseuds/ElvenSister
Summary: A day in the life of the mighty and fearless Captain Logan Thackeray.--See... I mentioned this piece of fiction in my ongoing GW2 fanfic. At the time it didn't exist. Now it does. This is not for Logan's fans, this is for people like me who find him annoying and don't mind laughing at his expense. This piece is neither serious, nor tasteful, nor the best writing I can produce. It's just for sh*ts and giggles.





	The Mighty Deeds of Captain Logan Thackeray

Once upon a time the mighty Captain Logan Thackeray, commander of the Seraph and the champion of her highness Queen Jennah, was sitting at his desk and thinking important thoughts. Mighty, important thoughts they were, on matters of life and death, definitely not about the ways in which the top of the queen’s dress stood up without any apparent detachments. Maybe it was magic?

The captain’s musings were interrupted by the hurried arrival of a guard whose name he did not remember.

“Captain Thackeray! We need you at once!”

The captain chose to remain seated for the news. He did so because a guard did not necessitate standing up; it had definitely nothing to do with his state of partial arousal.

“What is it?” demanded he.

“The bandits are trying to blow up the water pipes!”

That sounded a lot like the problem the captain was experiencing on a personal level, though without the bandits, thank the Six. “How far along are they?”

“One pipe down, two to go,” the guard replied. “We must hurry!”

“You go ahead, I’ll be right behind you once I grab – and polish – my sword.”

\--

The mighty Logan Thackeray hastened to the water pipes as soon as he was able. His men seemed to have the bandits under control. Every once in a while they would appear out of their lair and make a beeline for the bomb the previous team had left behind at the location of their demise. Logan pushed the nigh dead strugglers off the cliff with his shield and nodded to the guard who had informed him of the attack.

“How goes it?” he asked.

“They seemed to have stopped,” was the reply. “You missed the action, captain.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe they are afraid of you? They stopped attacking as soon as you arrived.”

Logan stood a little straighter. That had to be it. Not that he was late, but that his mere presence struck fear into the heart of every bandit in Kryta.

“Is there anything else that requires my attention?” he asked.

“Vic the Iron has been spotted near Eastern Divinity Dam,” one of the guards replied. “I remember seeing the poster around the station. He’s supposed to be a big deal, right?”

“He won’t be for long!” declared the mighty Logan. “To the Eastern Divinity Dam, men! We shall make sure this bandit robs no one again!”

So the mighty captain and his three men traveled to the place where the notorious bandit was residing, supposedly to hide from the law. The thought of his face when he saw the law bearing down on him made Logan smile. He would defeat the bandit and tell the queen that her land was a little bit safer for the unwary traveler, at least until some other bandit took Vic’s place.

“Halt, men,” said the mighty Logan when they were close to the spot where Vic had been seen. “He is probably hiding, trying to keep a low profile in order not to attract the attention of the law – meaning us. He may want to be taken in without a fight. It is his right, should he wish to do so, and we will respect it. Though he might prefer to keep his reputation intact instead of avoiding a fight that will cost him his freedom, maybe even his life. If it comes to exchanging blows, follow my lead.”

“Aye, captain.”

“Alright,” said the mighty Logan and stepped into view from behind the cliff where they had talked. Vic the Iron was standing there, in the middle of the day, and did not appear to mind one bit who saw him. Logan stood his ground convincingly and began his approach while unsheathing his sword.

“Vic the Iron?” said he. “I am Captain Logan Thackeray and these are my Seraph. You are a plague on society and a disturbance to the peace of the lands that belong to our beloved queen. Therefore we have come for your head. If you wish to surrender, you should do so at this instance.”

“Piss off, queen’s lapdog. I know you and I ain’t afraid of you. You can go back to your queen and tell her that if she ever wants a real man, this is where she can find me. I bet she’ll come running, eh lads?” Vic declared to the general merriment of his fellow bandits.

“How dare you abuse the queen in such fashion?! I’ll make you regret those words if it’s the last thing I do!” yelled the mighty Logan. “Seraph! For the queen! Charge!”

“I’m not really Seraph,” one of his followers pointed out.

“Charge!” Yelled Logan again and ran at the ruefully grinning bandit.

Vic threw away his half-smoked cigarette with a bored air, took a stance, and rushed at and over the running captain, leaving him to lie on the ground. The non-Seraph guard looked at his captain, shrugged, and threw himself on the ground next to him.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to follow your lead.”

“This is obviously not what I meant.”

“How was I supposed to know how you big city folk do things? Like this attack plan of yours; if it was me, I’d have stunned him to begin with and then thrown everything I had at him.”

“Feel free to do so now. The Seraph give their members some freedom in a fight,” the fearless captain said magnanimously and scrambled up.

He refocused on the bandit boss who was giving his Seraph a hard time.

“Miscreant! I am still expecting you to take back what you said about the queen. Come at me!”

Suddenly Vic disappeared and reappeared right behind Logan’s back.

“The queen certainly hasn’t, has she?” the bandit whispered huskily into the captain’s ear. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

The mighty captain swiveled around and shoved his sword at the bandit who was no longer there, but a few feet away, laughing scornfully. Logan jumped at him with a vengeance and made powerful sweeps with his sword, trying to hit the still laughing gloater who was evading his attacks.

“Take… back… what… you… said…” the captain groaned in between the swings. “Someone stun him!”

“We’re a little busy with the others,” one of the Seraph replied. “Can’t you kick him yourself, captain?”

“They didn’t teach us that at the Academy.”

“They need to teach big city folk how to kick?” the non-Seraph guard asked in disbelief. “The world really is a funny old place, isn’t it?”

“This is not time for kitchen philosophy, man,” the mighty captain replied. “If you know what to do, help me! He won’t stop evading.”

“When that happens here in the country, we switch to ranged weapons.”

“I have none,” answered the captain.

“I bet you wish right about now that you had one?”

There was a creak of leather next to the mighty Logan when Vic appeared close to him again.

“You want me closer, do you, lapdog? To be able to swing your sword? Sure, I’ll help,” said the bandit. His hand was quick as a cat when it shot down to the captain’s midriff. In the blink of an eye the hand was away again, and something dark flew through the air at one of the Seraph.

“Ouch! That bastard hit me with something! That’s going to bruise!”

The wind picked up and something hit the mighty captain squarely in the face, blocking his vision. It was wet and sticky. It took him a while to realize that it was the cloth that hangs around his armor. It had loosened when Vic had removed his belt and thrown it at the Seraph. The cloth made him unable to see and the wind kept it stuck on his face. He fumbled about helplessly as he tried to take it off with his weapons in hand. He could make out the bandit’s scornful laugh from some way away. He made one last attempt to free himself from the object, giving it a forceful pull. The force of the movement, the shift in the center of gravity, and the slipperiness of the grass made him end up on the ground, but at least the cloth came off. A pair of leather-clad legs stood by him. He looked up to see Vic’s grinning face.

“Bowing before me, lapdog? You didn’t have to.”

The mighty Logan was brewing with fury. He lunged at the bandit and clutched his hands tightly around the villain’s knees. Vic made a surprised sound.

“I’ve got you now, miscreant!” the fearless captain yelled, holding fast to his prisoner. “You can’t escape! Take back what you said about the queen!”

“Let go off me, you stupid mongrel!” the bandit replied, trying to move from the captain’s iron grip, but Logan wouldn’t budge. He held on tightly and pulled his legs to make another binding around the bandit.

“Take him down, men!” the captain ordered.

“Yes, sir! Don’t let go, sir!”

And he didn’t. The mighty Logan held on for dear life, keeping his eyes closed, definitely not imagining that he was holding his queen.

\--

“Wow, captain, that was something!” one of the Seraph enthused when the other two guards had left to take Vic to prison.

“Thank you. Your effort is appreciated,” the mighty Logan replied.

“That was one original move, holding him like that. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Yes, well, it came to me in the throes of battle. When you fight long enough, you learn to improvise,” said the captain. “Was there anything else that needed doing? It doesn’t have to be big. The citizens of Kryta should know that no task is too simple for the attention of the Seraph.”

“Well… Someone spotted a river drake broodmother next to Shaemoor Fields,” the man replied hesitantly, “but anyone could handle something like that with one hand, so it doesn’t exactly require-”

“Nonsense, man,” the fearless captain replied. “The farmers need to be kept safe from such foul beasts. I will not rest until that monstrosity is dead.”

Logan hurried towards the river with the guard hanging along. They found a suitable place for reconnaissance behind a rock near the water. The mighty captain peeked from behind it at the river drakes.

“Which one is it? Which one is the horrifying beast of a broodmother?” he inquired.

The guard’s head popped up. “The bigger one. Like I said, captain, it’s not much of a problem.”

“I will take care of this,” the mighty captain said and left the safety of the rock while drawing out his weapon. “You hang back and jump in only if necessary.”

“If you say so, captain.”

The fearless Logan approached the rounded animal. “Cower before me, foul beast! No longer will your presence inconvenience the innocent farmers who work hard for their living by the river. I will end you!”

He charged at the drake with a terrifying battle cry, one that he had definitely not been practicing when no one was around. He landed a good hit which seemed to make the creature angry. Its tiny eyes focused on him and it opened its sharp-toothed jaw. A blast of flame jettisoned out of the open mouth, blackening what was left of the cloth that covered Logan’s armor. A tiny bit of it lit on fire, making the captain scream and throw himself fully into the water to quench the small flame.

“You will not get the better of me, beast!” he grumbled from the water and punched the drake in the muzzle. That was enough to bring the beast to its end.

“Well done, captain,” the guard said when the mighty Logan was getting up from the river, dripping wet.

“I merely did my duty as a humble servant of the crown,” was the reply.

“I must say, I admire your way of attacking your problems from down up,” the guard said conversationally. “Not many soldiers of your rank would do that. They would consider it below them, I guess.”

“True strength and true nobility are not affected by such trifles. What brings me honor is the knowledge that I have been of service to my queen.”

“Jolly good, jolly good,” agreed the guard. “She’ll find out about it then, shall she? That you have been of service to her?”

“I often run into her at the end of my day,” the mighty hero replied. “She likes to be kept aware of the comings and goings of the Seraph. I’m more than happy to oblige her.”

“I should imagine so,” the other man replied. “You’d be off to give your report to her now, I fancy?”

“Yes, that is correct. Why?”

“No matter,” the man said, holding back his smile. “Good day to you, captain.”

The guard looked after the mighty Logan, thinking how different versions of the day’s events the queen and his mates at the pub would hear. The real one was written on the long-suffering cloth of Logan’s armor – it was wet, sticky, and partially burned from the front and muddy green on the back. One could only imagine the sort of gossip the court would make out of that. The guard huffed and turned to go to his pub. The mighty Logan indeed.


End file.
